


Come Whisper in My Ear

by Margo_Kim



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: A Theme Emerges, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Awkward Sexual Situations, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 17:06:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1234363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Margo_Kim/pseuds/Margo_Kim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annie is not very good at talking dirty. However, that's sure as hell not going to stop her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Whisper in My Ear

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in 2010 over at livejournal, imported here in 2014, and unchanged in the interim.

  
Almost inadvertently, Annie and Sam started dating in the modern sense of the word, the way that would make her mum cringe with shame if she had even an inkling of it. They continued the movies and the dinners and the denials, but the focus of their relationship shifted. Namely, it shifted to sex whenever, wherever, and however they could manage it.

“That makes us sound like a dirty Dr. Seuss novel,” Sam said when Annie told him her view on the new relationship.

“Is that bad?”

“Not at all. But if you start making Sam I Am jokes, you’re cooking your own breakfast in the morning.”

Annie had liked sex fine before, but she’d never quite understood the fuss about the whole affair. Romance novels, she’d long accepted were as fantastical as _Lord of the Rings_ , and the amazing, super, magic, life-changing orgasms all the female characters seemed to experience fit in the same category as mithril. Sex was fun, awkward, and occasionally painful; that was all.

Then their first night together Sam pressed her against the wall, hiked up her skirt, and educated her. Annie had quite a few revelations that night, mostly centered around lips and stubble and judicious use of teeth. Her body became where he was touching, where she wanted him to touch. When she came, her knees buckled, and Sam help slid down the wall. It took a few minutes for her to stop shaking. Numbly, she patted Sam cheek. “ _Wow_.”

Sam grinned and pulled her close. “Are you sure it’s not too much? I’ve been told I’m a bit of a perfectionist.”

“You’re just fishing for compliments,” she said and kissed him until she couldn’t taste herself anymore.

Sam’s own want pressed rather insistently into her hip so she kissed her way lower. He twisted his hands in her hair as Annie nuzzled against Sam’s leg and ran her fingers over the bulge. She’d read somewhere that guys like it when you undressed them using just your teeth and Annie’d always wanted to try that, but she still had to deal with the belt and zip, and their first time probably wasn’t the right moment to try and get fancy. So she unbuttoned his trousers with her boring old hands and pulled them down along with his pants.

Oh. Well, that was lovely. She put her head back down on Sam’s thigh and watched for a while.

“Take your time,” Sam said dryly. “No need to rush.”

She rolled over to look up at him. “Just enjoying the view.”

“A little less sight-seeing, a little more hiking, it you don’t mind.”

“Boys. You’re all the same once you get our kits off.” She brushed her fingers against the tip of him and giggled as he cursed. “It’s not my fault I’m tired out.” She kissed his hip, savoring the salt of his sweat. It never failed to amaze her how sex could make the disgusting alluring.

Then Sam groaned above her and she decided to save her pontificating for later.

Annie wasn’t stupid or shy, but she didn’t have the words for this, the way she licked and touched and sucked. Staring down the empty page of her diary, pen poised above the first line, she could not think of how to describe Sam’s face, not one phrase she liked. The slang of the boy’s club seemed too inadequate and crude for a man like Sam. From her own vocabulary, she pulled the prosaic “happy” and the flowery “rapturous”, both nixed before she bothered to write them down. And when she tried to write how he’d felt on her tongue as he finished, she couldn’t pin those elusive words to the page, even as the taste engraved itself into her memory.

She would do almost anything with him. She just couldn’t bring herself to say it. It had never been a problem with the men before Sam (the exact number she’d keep to herself, thank you). But now sex was still fun, awkward, and occasionally painful, but on top of all that it was change-your-knickers, sew-buttons-back-on-your-blouse, and cover-up-your-love-bites-with-makeup magnificent. And whenever she tried to tell Sam that, the words died on her tongue.

Annie was nothing if not a problem-solver, though. She’d kicked her fingernail chewing habit when she was 16 by sitting on her hands nearly constantly for two weeks; she’d reorganized the station filing system in two months; and when her job had been scrubbing out cells, she’d made them sparkle. She was WDC Annie Cartwright, and if she wanted to talk dirty, then she could damn well talk dirty.

Which is a perfectly fine affirmation to say to the mirror in the morning, but it was quite another thing to follow up on it when Sam started kissing downstairs. Bless that man, he loved going down on her, and his tongue had a way of scattering her thoughts.

And she felt like she really should say _something_ so Annie rolled her hips up and moaned. “Oh, yeah, baby. Lick my vagina.”

She’d never felt someone laugh into her crotch. It didn’t necessarily feel bad, but when Sam finally wiped the tears from his eyes and was able to breathe again, Annie didn’t really feel like sex anymore. Luckily, Sam managed to convince her otherwise.

They sat together in the post-coital glow and stickiness when Sam started chuckling again. “What was that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied.

Sam gave her a grin that would have delighted her were she not cringing with shame. “You know. When I was licking your vagina.”

Annie buried her face into her hands. “Let’s just go to bed.”

“But I haven’t even put my penis into your vagina yet.”

Annie chucked a pillow at him, but Sam was too busy falling over sideways laughing to notice.

He did end up putting his penis into her vagina that night, and it was quite lovely, but there was still more giggling than Annie appreciated.

***

“I’m not good at dirty talk,” she told him over breakfast.

“Really” was his only answer.

She glared at him over her tea. “I’m working on it.”

He gave a noncommittal “hmm” as he carefully avoided looking at her.

“I’m going to get good, Sam.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“You’re going to be so turned on by the things I say.”

“I bet.”

“You have no faith in me whatsoever.”

“Not at all about this.”

Annie pursed her lips as she ran her finger around the rim of her cup. “I’m not that bad.”

“Yes. You really are.” He pointed behind her. “Two weeks ago, you’re bent over that counter. What do you say?”

Annie shrugged. “‘Oh, Sam’ or something like that.”

He gripped the table and moaned. “‘Please, Sam’,” he moaned breathily, “‘stimulate my clitoris.’”

“No, I didn't, and I sound nothing like that.”

“Wrong on the first point, right on the second. Sorry about that, I’m shit with impersonations. Three weeks ago, you’re giving me head. You pull back to look up at me and you say ‘Oh, Sam, you’re so engorged.’”

“Well, it was true.”

“And four weeks ago, we're in the alley behind the Railway Arms—”

Annie sighed happily. “That was a good evening.”

Sam smiled. “That was a _really_ good evening. And as you’re coming, you whisper, ‘My vagina feels so happy right now.’”

Annie gave a mortified moan. “No, I didn’t.”

“You did. You really, really did.” Sam reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “There are good things about you, Annie, but you cannot talk dirty.”

“Fine, but what about you?”

“What about me? I’m great at bedroom talk.”

“Bedroom talk, yeah, but morning after talk? ‘There are good things about you.’” He gave her an appalled look. “Fine, I can’t do impressions either, but my point’s still valid. You’re not very emotionally intimate.”

Sam crossed his arms, looking for all the world like her nephew being told he can’t stay up late. “Yes, I am.”

Annie shook her head with the jaunty cheer puncturing an overinflated ego always gave her. “You’re emotional and you’re intimate. That’s different.”

Sam frowned a frown that bordered on a pout. “You know I care about you.”

Annie felt like pointing out his use of ‘care’ which a) proved her point and b) was not exactly the verb she was waiting for, but the man would say it when he said it. She shrugged instead. “And you know that I’m turned on by you. So what do the words matter? Besides,” she said after a pause, “I am going to get great at dirty talk.”

“I’m sure.” Sam tried to hide his mouth behind his cup. It didn’t work.

“Stop smirking.”

“I’m trying.” He clearly was not.

“Well, stop it.” Annie leaned forward on the table and uncrossed her legs. Sam put his hand over his mouth and waited. “Sam, I want you to put your man sword inside my lady sheath.”

Annie sipped her tea while Sam put his head on the table and shook uncontrollably. “I read it in a romance novel. It seemed sexy there.”

He came up smiling like a cheeky bastard and it made her tingle. “Fine, then. Get over here and let me cleave you with my broadsword.”

Annie stood and put her teacup on the counter, safely away from the ensuing action. She looked over her shoulder at him with what she thought of as her take-me-now face. “It’s really more of a foil, isn’t it?”

Judging by the way Sam leaned back in his chair, he didn’t have any objections with her bedroom eyes. “I don’t hear you complaining normally. Come on then.” He grinned. “Let me give you a little prick.” Sam looked tremendously proud of himself.

Annie rolled her eyes as she straddled him, already half hard underneath her. “ _You’re_ going to make fun of _me_? You insulted your girth with a terrible pun. That’s like insulting yourself twice.”

Sam’s hands slid under her shirt and cupped her tits. Annie bit her lip as he grazed his nails over her nipples. “When it comes to bedroom talk,” he said with just a touch of smugness, “I’m still winning.”

And Annie decided now wasn’t the time for arguing.

***

The next time, Sam brought it up was a few days later as they watched the match on her couch. His hand on his thigh had started inching up during the commercial. She was focusing so hard on his index finger idly caressing her, she missed the question.

“I said, why do you always call it ‘vagina’?”

“That’s what it’s called, unless I mean the labia or the clitoris.”

“It’s so clinical sounding.” Like Sam was one to talk, she felt like pointing out, but his finger really was quite distracting. “How about ‘pussy’?”

She scoffed. “I call cats pussies, not my bits.”

He raised his eyebrow at that. “Bits?” She shrugged. “How about ‘cunt’?”

She wrinkled her nose. “No. It’s so harsh.” It’d been shouted at her too many times in the street for it to be alluring. “It makes me uncomfortable.”

Sam knew enough to leave it at that. “Twat?”

She stuck her tongue out, a few healthy glasses of wine making her feel young. “I like ‘vagina’. Everyone knows what it means.”

“Everyone knows what breasts are, but you still refer to them as tits sometimes.”

“That’s different. ‘Tits’ sounds cute.” And she was glad he didn’t press her further since between the match and Sam’s fingers running over the edges of her underwear, she wasn’t in any position to defend her vocabulary.

They watched the football match in silence for a minute. Annie knew it wouldn’t last. Sam always got chatty when United wasn’t playing and judging by the way he was shifting, she wasn’t the only one feeling slightly antsy. “Shall we go flowery?” he said. “The sweet nectar of the forbidden beehive?”

She laughed. “I prefer ‘the uncharted waters of my lady grotto’.”

“‘The well-tilled fields of the Fertile Crescent’.”

She gave him a mock slap on the arm (not that they didn’t indulge in the real kind now and then, which reminded her that it had been awhile since she’d told Sam what a bad, bad boy he was. This weekend, maybe. That’d make him happy). “The well-tilled fields? Are you implying many farmers have worked this land?”

Sam gave her one of his truly open grins. “I’m saying this farmer has done little recently besides plowing that field.”

Annie felt quite done with innuendo without action. She shifted so his hand was pressed against her region with debatable labels. “Well, I think it’s time to get your farm equipment out.” She started unbuttoning her shirt. Sam watched with keen interest. “Flooding season’s coming. Everything’s gonna get wet.”

He groaned good-humoredly, but he didn’t take his eyes of her tits. “You know, by any logic, this should not be arousing.”

She tossed her shirt on the floor. “Well, are you hard?”

Sam’s laugh was wry and low. “My plow could certainly furrow a row,” and, damn, that man had a gift for making words sound hot because even Annie thought that should have been lame.

She pressed the palm of her hand against the bulge in his trousers. “I suppose that means I’m winning now.”

Sam might have responded if she hadn’t _squeezed_ just then.

The match played on unwatched and finished roughly the same time they did. Sam took personal satisfaction in the fact that Annie had more orgasms than City had goals; Annie was pretty damn happy about that too. It'd been a high scoring game. 

***

Annie tapped her pen against the page as she thought.

 _Sam has a nice penis,_ she finally wrote.

“It’s a bit bland,” Sam said as he read over her shoulder.

“Don’t put yourself down, Sam, you manage.”

“Ouch.” He kissed the back of her shoulder and rested his head in the curve of her neck.

Annie flipped the diary shut and tossed it to the other side of the bed. She reached back, wrapping her arms around the back of her neck. She grazed her nails over the bare skin there the way he did that made her so happy; she felt quite pleased with herself when he hummed. Pressed so close together, she felt the vibration of him all over. His arms circled around her waist. Annie slid her hands over his.

“Got something in mind for this evening, Ms. Cartwright?” Sam murmured. Annie’s head fell back as Sam sucked at the delicate spot where neck sloped into shoulder.

She pressed her lips against his ears. “Why don’t you let me show you?” With her hand, she pushed his down under the soft cotton of her knickers. His fingers _pressed_ and she arched her back, gasping. She felt him smirk against her shoulder and she chuckled. Sam could feel as smug as he wanted as long as he earned it.

The other hand, she slid up under her undershirt to her breast. He brushed his thumb over her nipple, already rock hard, while below his fingers slid in and out of her until she couldn’t figure out what was making her feel good where.

“This?” Sam’s breath was hot against her neck.

“More.” His fingers made her slick and sore; that unbearable ache he always gave her settled in her lower belly and demanded to be dealt with. She half-turned toward Sam and kissed him, hot and sloppy and desperate. He groaned into her mouth as she gyrated into her lap. Annie grabbed his vest. “I want you inside me now. Just like this.”

Sam kissed her neck and let go of her to pull down his pants. The bare feeling of him behind her, hard and ready, made her hands shake as she pulled aside the fabric of her knickers. She lowered herself onto him as he held her, one hand on her back to keep her steady, one hand caressing her intimates to make her shiver. Biting her tongue, she slid down completely. The wonderful feeling of fullness made her eyes flutter shut and her thighs tense with anticipation. Sam made a noise in the back of his throat, softer than a grunt, harder than a sigh. She quite liked the sound so she twitched her hips and made him do it again.

Annie leaned back against him and braced herself. “Not a bad position, yeah?”

Sam panted against her. “Not bad.” He voice came out hoarse, raggedy, just the way Annie liked it.

“So you like it then.”

“Mmm.”

“So, what if I just stayed here like this? No moving, no grinding—” she couldn’t resist giving her hips a twist with this, and Sam tensed behind her deliciously—“just sitting here, all evening. What would you think about that?”

Sam’s fingers drew lazy circles around her clitoris. “Annie, I’d flip you on your back and fuck you until you couldn’t walk.”

Annie couldn’t stop the little noise that burst forth at that. “Is that a promise, Sam?” She rocked her hips. “We should save _something_ for tomorrow.”

Sam flicked her clit and she jumped. “Get going then.”

“Patience is a virtue.” But she lifted herself and let herself fall and Sam’s fingers worked wonders as he thrust up into her. Her thighs burned, and she knew she’d feel this in the morning every time she got up or sat down. The thought made her quiver.

Oh God, she was close. She grabbed Sam’s hand and ground it against her crotch as she bounced down and down and down. “Sam,” she panted. “Sam, Sam, Sam.” Sam’s hips grew erratic as he desperately sucked at the bare skin of her neck. And now, now, it was happening now.

“Yes, Sam,” she moaned. “Spurt your love juice into my moist canal.”

Sam came with a groan. Annie, laughing victoriously, followed right after. They collapsed gently backwards, spooning on the soft topmost blanket of Annie’s bed. Annie nuzzled back even closer to Sam, and they rested for a moment before she squirmed against him with happiness. “I win,” she said.

“I was already coming when you said it. It doesn’t count.”

“You still came. And do you know what that mean?”

“You’ve got great timing?”

She rolled over and poked him in the chest. “I am not bad at dirty talk.”

“No, Annie. You are horrific at it. But for some bizarre reason, it works for me.” Sam kissed her on her forehead and pulled away. “It must be because I’m so madly in love with you,” he said blithely as he walked to the bathroom. And when Sam came back, warm washcloth in hand and started to clean her up, Annie, laughing, pulled him down and kissed him senseless until even they could figure out what the other person meant.


End file.
